


Pair Of Aces/Double Or Nothing

by Aloysia_Virgata



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Porn Battle, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 10:03:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3130511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aloysia_Virgata/pseuds/Aloysia_Virgata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally posted at xf_pornbattle for the prompts Scully/Byers, 40 year old virgin, what happens in Vegas. </p><p>Yes, you read that right. Scully/Byers. I'm pretty much die-hard on the MSR, but that prompt intrigued me to no end, and so I went ahead with it. Even after writing it, I was still a little "Scully and BYERS?! WTF???" But if you can't go a little nuts for a porn battle, when the heck can you?  There was a length limit of 4300 characters, and so this was posted in 2 segments. Hence the two titles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pair of Aces

Stupid.

So very stupid. He hadn't meant for this, but here he is, sitting in an oak-paneled booth pouring out his woes to Scully. Her face is touched with sympathy.

"You did a brave thing," she assures him. "Letting someone go is never easy."

He shrugs, uncomfortable at being called brave. "It was the right thing to do."

Scully sips her ice water and spears a cherry tomato with a toothpick. "Black ops relationships are tricky."

Byers, who has trained himself to listen to subtexts, straightens up a notch. "I'm not sure what you mean," he says carefully.

Scully laughs a little. Sounds tired. "You lured me here by faking Mulder's voice because it's the only thing that would induce me to fly across the country in the middle of the night."

Byers hangs his head, searching for the right words.

"I think we both know secrets don't live forever," Scully points out.

Byers loves Suzanne for reasons he doesn't entirely comprehend. But he likes Scully because she is honest and kind and noble. Frohike's naked innuendo embarrasses him and he thinks that if Mulder were a gentleman, he wouldn't drag Scully around the way he does.

It does not occur to him that she goes because she wants to.

"Love complicates things," Byers says vaguely.

Scully eviscerates the tomato, its squishy innards spilling out over her cocktail napkin. "Sex complicates things."

Byers closes his eyes, hoping she'll stop talking because he hasn't the faintest idea what he should say.

Scully looks up. "I'm sorry. This isn't supposed to be about me. I don't know why I'm maudlin."

"You may still be off-kilter from the drug you were injected with," he suggests. He doesn't know how to have these conversations.

"Mmm. So which was it for you, Byers? Sex or love?"

He flushes beet red. Collar to hairline. "We didn't…we never…love."

"Oh," says Scully. "I see."

No you don't, he thinks. You don't see anything. Frohike content to correspond with his disconcertingly long list of female pen pals, Langly content to animate his own fantasy girl. And Byers, odd man out. Missing something he's never fully had.

"How long has it been?" Scully asks in a soft voice.

"Forty years," says Byers, lost in thought. And then, horrified, he realizes that he has answered the wrong question. "Ten," he corrects. "Ten years, since I first met her."

But it's too late.

Scully is trying to look nonchalant, but she's tearing up a sugar packet and poking the corpse of the tomato again.

"Oh god," says Byers.

"I'm sorry," says Scully, sounding helpless.

Byers cradles his head on the heavy table. He hears her stand and catches a waft of her airy perfume. She stops next to him and rests her slim fingers on his hand.

"I wouldn't ever say anything," she offers.

Byers looks up at her. Red hair, white skin, blue eyes. She looks like the American flag. Honorable. "I know."

"Don't pine forever," she advises him. "It doesn't make it any easier."

He nods miserably and she slips away, heading for the door.

"Scully?"

"Yes?"

"Why Mulder?"

She smiles sadly. "Why Suzanne?"

They share a small laugh, understanding each other and not understanding themselves at all. He sighs in the way people do when they don't want to cry. Scully walks back to lay a hand on his head. Her nails press lightly against his scalp.

"Loving someone doesn't keep you from being lonely," she says distantly. "I think it might make it worse."

Scully is the anti-Hallmark, Byers thinks, as something flat presses into his palm.

A key card.

He gapes at her, stunned, and her cool gaze filters down over him like starlight.

"Scully…?"

She shakes her head. "Whatever you decide. It's fine."

She leaves him at the table, disappearing into the neon glow of the Strip, where a million people just like them roll the dice and hope for surcease of sorrow.

 


	2. Double or Nothing

She reaches for her gun when the door opens.  
  
"Scully?" comes a tentative voice. "It's Byers." The doors clicks shut. "I would've knocked but there were, uh, people in the hallway."  
  
She didn't expect him to show up, but is not disappointed that he did. "Come in," she says, rising from the bed and returning her Sig to the table.  
  
He's silhouetted by shafts of moonlight streaming in. A tall, lean man in a suit. A lump rises in her throat and she swallows hard.  
  
She walks to him and takes his hand. "I'm glad you're here," she says fondly. Meaning it. Byers looks flustered, flattening his hair and loosening his tie. She's never seen him loosen his tie. A wash of affection surges over her.  
  
"I…I don't know what to do." His voice is slightly high and fast.  
  
"We'll figure it out."  
  
He nods jerkily and shuts his eyes when she unbuttons her pajama top. She touches his face. Beard, actually. "Hey," she says. "It's okay."  
  
Byers looks down at her. She smiles and smooths his lapels. "You can lose the formalwear."  
  
He laughs shakily and fumbles out of his jacket and tie. Scully opens his shirt, and Byers jumps when her hands brush his bare skin. She steps closer, her breasts pressed to him, and he slips his arms around her back.  
  
He leans down and kisses her, gently at first, but his tongue pushes against her lips and then past them. Byers is a good kisser. She pulls him over to the bed, yanking impatiently at his belt.  
  
Byers' hands, large and warm, cover hers as he opens his pants. She tugs them down with his boxers as he gasps against her mouth.  
  
"Scully are you-"  
  
"Don't."  
  
He doesn't.  
  
She pulls away and lies down, slithering out of her pajamas and underwear. Watching him through half-lidded eyes as he sits on the bed. She likes Mulder behind her but she doesn't want Byers to see her tattoo. She doesn't want him looking at her when she can't look back.  
  
She reaches for him and he moves forward, covering her uncertainly. She parts her knees, gently steering him with her thighs as his breath comes quick and shallow. His fingers are light against her nipples.  
  
Scully stretches up to kiss him, his beard tickling a little. She presses one hand to the small of his back and pushes his hips down. He shivers as his erection brushes against her.  
  
"Oh…" he breathes. Three strokes and he's inside. Perversely, she thinks that a barren woman and a virgin probably make for pretty safe sex.  
  
She gazes upwards, his lean chest and his well-muscled shoulders moving above her body. His rhythm is clumsy, but he feels solid and real and there is a sweetness that makes her throat ache and her eyes sting.  
  
"This is good," she tells him, and he bows his head, inhaling deeply.  
  
His hand curves around her face, caressing her softly, and suddenly she can't look at him anymore. She wraps her arms around him, burying her face against his neck. She moves her hips fast against his, wanting to make him feel good. Wanting to make this worth his while.  
  
His breathing is ragged, his skin slick against hers, and she sucks at the tender flesh below his ear.  
  
"Scully," he groans and she feels him thrust hard, his muscles tight as he rocks against her. She draws circles on his back and kisses him. She feels like she has stolen something.  
  
He lies next to her, panting, and she curls against his chest, wondering what the hell is wrong with her. Byers holds her close and she struggles not to cry.  
  
"Scully," he says again. "Are you okay?"  
  
She laughs sharply, touched by his concern. "I think I should be asking you that."  
  
He smiles all the way up to his eyes, which she rarely does, and tells her that he's fine.  
  
"Good," she says. "I'm glad."  
  
She gets up and pulls on her robe, then grabs the pack of cigarettes she can't remember buying. She goes to the balcony, acutely aware of his eyes on her. She lights a cigarette and takes a long drag.  
  
Scully hears footsteps and turns to see Byers walk out, wearing slacks with no shirt. She offers him a smoke but he shakes his head and puts an arm around her.  
  
"He loves you, Scully." His voice is soft but it almost breaks her anyway.  
  
She shrugs and rests her head on his shoulder. "You should call her."  
  
They stare out at the glittering city and cut their own losses.


End file.
